In The Middle: Barbara Crooker

of a life that's as complicated as everyone else's,
struggling for balance, juggling time.
The mantle clock that was my grandfather's
has stopped at 9:20; we haven't had time
to get it repaired. The brass pendulum is still,
the chimes don't ring. One day you look out the window,
green summer, the next, and the leaves have already fallen,
and a grey sky lowers the horizon. Our children almost grown,
our parents gone, it happened so fast. Each day, we must learn
again how to love, between morning's quick coffee
and evening's slow return. Steam from a pot of soup rises,
mixing with the yeasty smell of baking bread. Our bodies
twine, and the big black dog pushes his great head between;
his tail is a metronome, 3/4 time. We'll never get there,
Time is always ahead of us, running down the beach, urging
us on faster, faster, but sometimes we take off our watches,
sometimes we lie in the hammock, caught between the mesh
of rope and the net of stars, suspended, tangled up
in love, running out of time.

Exactly how I feel right now. And for no particular reason, we're just busy and we have a new schedule and there isn't a lot of time that isn't spent either working or resting, right now.

Well, it's not exactly how I feel. I feel more 'out of time', as in, my time hasn't settled into a routine, I feel all out of sync with everything. Not exactly rushed (although a little of that in some areas) but more just all disjointed and out of routine. Or maybe, not in a routine that I enjoy, quite yet. It's post-holidays, which should be a slow time, but I'm catching up everywhere and won't get a chance to really rest until February.

Anyway. Poem. We have antique clocks that have stopped, in our house, too. Too busy, not enough time to fix them.

I'd like to change this. I was thinking about this this morning, and last night. Part of this large journey to create a life that I love, is to create days that I love, all the time. That's part of why I'm doing this project. To take a few minutes, every day, out of regular time, to read a poem and reflect on it for a few minutes.

Taking time for love, for health, and for joy: that's how I would like to spend more of my time.